


Professionalism

by Arghnon



Category: A3! (Video Game)
Genre: Crossdressing, Drabble, Kimono, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Photography
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:14:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22548361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arghnon/pseuds/Arghnon
Summary: "Sakyou, no matter what, will always be professional when acting. It's something Omi admires. Regardless of the circumstances, he values putting on his best performance over anything else. His passion for the art shines through in his dedication and focus.Even now, when he has to dress as a concubine."(Or how Sakyou crossdresses and Omi has a crisis)
Relationships: Furuichi Sakyou/Fushimi Omi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 89





	Professionalism

**Author's Note:**

> Sad of lack of omisa fic so here to fix it myself. Apologies it is so short...

Sakyou, no matter what, will always be professional when acting. It's something Omi admires. Regardless of the circumstances, he values putting on his best performance over anything else. His passion for the art shines through in his dedication and focus.

Even now, when he has to dress as a concubine. 

He accepts the role with dignity. He dons on the purple kimono, printed with flowers on every inch. He accepts the delicate makeup that softens the masculine angles of his face. Diligently, he doesn't move an inch as they style the wig. Omi wonders how they found one that so accurately imitates the blonde of his hair.

Sakyou settles into the role of a beautiful coy woman smoothly. He hides strong hands under flowing cloth. He flutters his eyelashes with a look over his shoulder. He knows how to slim their broadness with the right angle and arch his back to hide his lack of curves. He teases a smile with his eyes. The jewels in his accessories only brighten their colour, his beauty marks adding to the feminine look.

And it all aims to ruin any professionalism Omi holds.

He would like a talk with whoever's idea this theme was.

He fumbles with changing lenses and adjusting lights. Sometimes he takes more pictures than necessary, holding down the button for too long. It will be a pain to sort out through later but it's better than having less pictures because he's staring too long at the curve of Sakyou's nape. Well, he says it is a pain, but more memories of this moment won't hurt.

He can't stop staring. At the light blush and pale pink lipstick. Or the length of his neck as he turns to face the side. It's ridiculous how even the shape of his ankles somehow entrances him. He wants to look at him forever. No, this isn't true. He wants to touch as well. He itches to lay his hands on the obi and bring him close or hold him through the cloth of his sleeve, the hanging threat of Yuki's wrath be damned. 

Sakyou knows this. He knows the man has realized what effect he has on him. There is no other reason for him to brush so closely for a cup of water or to look at him from beneath his lashes, lips pursed temptingly at the rim of the cup. He can see the peak of his collarbone from the collar of his robe. He wonders, a brief immediate thought about sliding his fingers beneath the material, tracing his smooth chest. Maybe tug at the collar, letting it fall down his shoulder-

"You're fumbling today, Fushimi," he teases. He presses himself nearer. His chest is so close to his. Omi can see where the black of his eyeliner starts, "Distracted, are you? How unprofessional."

He silently thanks whatever holy power had Kazunari too busy to attend the shoot today. He's not sure if it's because he doesn't want the younger to see him in such a flustered state or because Sakyou would never be this bold if it weren't just the two of them. Or maybe, an ugly voice says, he wants this sight all to himself.

He watches closely as Sakyou's gaze shifts to the door and suddenly he feels the press of soft lips on his own. The kiss is brief and wet but it ends with teeth teasing at his bottom lip. He blinks, dazed, looking down at the smirk of Sakyou's painted lips. Then the man is slipping from his fingers, walking towards the dressing room.

"Bon, my lipstick needs to be redone."

"Hah?! Shitty Sakyou, I told you to drink water before the shoot!" 

Omi looks in the mirror across the room and catches sight of the lipstick smeared on his lips. Yes, he is definitely ruined.

**Author's Note:**

> Talk omisa with me on twit @marsaysays
> 
> OR keep up with my art/fic @marshyartsy


End file.
